


Blue Eyes/Brown Eyes

by MysteryWriter36



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drama, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kidnapping, Mystery, Secret Identity, Smoking, Spies & Secret Agents, alcohol mention, murder mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 01:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryWriter36/pseuds/MysteryWriter36
Summary: Andromeda has a normal life with her fiancé Jason. But one man is about to turn her life upside down.





	Blue Eyes/Brown Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote for a creative writing assignment. The theme/prompt was drama, so I picked an old piece I wrote back in 8th grade to re-write. I do have plans to expand and adapt this idea into a book.

I couldn’t keep running forever, neither literally nor figuratively. I knew that. But it didn’t stop my feet from carrying me down the dimly lit street and into an alleyway. It didn’t stop my brain from thinking of ways to defend myself, or ways to get away and start over again if I made it out of this.

The last thing I wanted to do was run. I wanted it to be over. I wanted smell the gun powder in the air and see the blood splattered on the concrete. I wanted to see his eyes wide open and void of life, his body limp on the ground. But it seemed that I would be the one to meet that fate.

I held my breath as I crouched behind a dumpster, hoping that he hadn’t seen me.

_Clack! Clack! Clack!_

The sound of dress shoes on concrete alerted me. He knew. It was over. I could see the street lights casting his shadow across the wall as he moved in. I closed my eyes.

“Andie. Andie, it’s me.” a voice says.

The breath rushes out of my lung and I relax against the wall. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and get up. We need to get you cleaned up, you smell like cheap whiskey and roadkill.” Jason says, offering me his hand.

“I’m fine, didn’t have a panic attack, thanks for asking.” I say as he helps me to my feet.

He raises an eyebrow and offers his other hand. He’s holding a cigarette.

“You know I’m not into vices.” I say, gently pushing his hand away.

“You were just at the bar.”

“I can _handle_ that. It isn’t a vice.”

“Let’s just go.” he says, rolling his eyes as he brings the cigarette to his mouth. He exhales, the smoke drifting into the air, before saying, “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m sorry I scared you.”

My walls fell at the sound of his soft tone. I looked into his eyes for the first time in weeks. They’re a beautiful shade of blue. Blue like the ocean. Blue like the sapphires on my favorite necklace. Blue like- _wait_.

His eyes weren’t supposed to be blue.

Jason’s eyes were _brown_.

Once again, I’m running. Running and running and running until I feel safe. But I don’t reach safety. I hear gun shots and screams and suddenly I’m falling. All at once, everything goes black.

* * *

 

When I open my eyes again, the light is blinding. My eyes snap shut and I groan, rolling over. I feel a soft pillow under my head, and silk sheets tangled around my legs. I try opening my eyes again, and I find myself alone in a large bed, facing the wall.

“Andromeda?” a voice says.

I roll over and see a man in the doorway of my bedroom. His brown eyes are filled with concern.

“Hey Jason.”

He walks into the room and kneels next to the bed, running his hand over my forehead. “Was it that dream again?” he asks, now running his fingers through my hair.

“Yeah,” I mumble, leaning into the touch. “It’s no big deal. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. I nod, and he grabs my hands, gently tugging me so that I’d sit up. “Then let’s go have breakfast. I’ll cook while you’re getting ready.” He kisses my forehead and then he’s gone.

I hear the sound of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen. I wait until I can hear Jason humming before I get up and make my way to the bathroom. One shower and a change of clothes later, I’m sitting at the table with him, eating pancakes. Breakfast is over all too soon, and Jason grabs his keys off the counter.

“I’ll be home a couple hours early.” he says, halfway out the door. “We can go to dinner at that Italian restaurant down the street. Okay?”

I smile and walk over, kissing him before he leaves. “Sounds good. I love you.”

His smile widens, and he takes my hand, lifting it to press a kiss near my engagement ring. “I love you, too.”

As soon as the door clicks shut, I make my way back to the kitchen, catching sight of the clock on the wall. _8:05_ it reads. My shift doesn’t start until 9:30, so I start cleaning up the breakfast mess Jason and I left behind. I’m nearly done when I hear something. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

The entire house is silent. Everything is much too quite.

_Creak._

Instinct overtakes me. I turn on my heel, a plate in hand, and throw the porcelain in the direction of the noise. I hear it shatter before I see it. It lays in pieces on the carpet, no threat in sight. I still feel on edge. Something isn’t right.

My suspicions are confirmed when I’m suddenly tackled to the ground. A rag is pressed to my mouth and I make the mistake of inhaling. I’m out like a light.

* * *

 

When I wake up, I’m in a hospital bed. But I know I’m not in a hospital. There’s no off-white everything, no overwhelming scent of ammonia, no large window on one side of the room. On one side of the bed there’s an IV, but it’s not in my arm. On the other side of the bed is a monitor, showing all my vitals.

I see a number go up on the screen and realize it’s my heart rate. I start panicking, and the number rises in. Moments later, a man rushes in.

I almost cry out Jason’s name in relief before I realize that it isn’t him. The man standing before me is an exact replica of him, it seems, but with only one difference: he has blue eyes, like the man from my dream.

“Who are you? Where am I? What do you want from me?” I ask, slowly sitting up in the bed.

The man looks at me with confusion and sadness. “You don’t know?” he asks.

I shake my head. He sighs and sits down in the single chair next to the bed.

“My name is Jason Ashford. You’re in the hospital wing. And I want my partner back.” he says.

“Then why am I here?”

“Because you’re my partner. Special Agent Andromeda Petris.” he answers, handing me a large file, “Kidnapped nine months ago by my brother, Nicholas Ashford.”

I open the file. The first photo is a mug shot of sorts. It’s my fiancée Jason, with a small picture of me in the corner, held by a paper clip.

 

_**Nicholas Ashford** _

_**Kidnapped Special Agent Andromeda Petris (top left)** _

_**Is armed and highly dangerous, proceed with caution** _

_**Apprehend by any means necessary** _

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed this! You can also find me on my tumblr @mysterywriter36


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